Childish
by madsthenerdygirl
Summary: Love is for the rich, the very lucky, and children. It's childish to think that he can have it, too.


**Title: Childish**

**Rating: It's so cute that you have to ask.**

**Summary: Love is for the rich, the very lucky, and children. It's childish to think that he can have it, too.**

**Disclaimer: Awww, you're so sweet! But no.**

Let's get something straight.

He's not in love with her.

Love is for silly little children and impossibly romantic men named William Turner Jr. and possibly missionaries. Savvy?

Pirates don't fall in love. They don't compose sonnets, they don't shower women with jewelry (unless it's cursed), and they don't send bouquets of roses. Those things have nasty thorns, anyway, and give him allergies.

And when you're Captain Jack Sparrow, the boldest, most daring pirate to rule the seven seas, you definitely don't fall in love. It's bad for one's reputation.

Whoever heard of a lovesick pirate, anyway?

Now, he does feel a little guilty. She was a good few years younger than he was (no, not _that_ big a difference) and clearly still a believer in One True Love and daring heroes and other such nonsense. She was also, as she's stated multiple times with no small amount of resentfulness, a novice at a nunnery.

He honestly did mistake it for a brothel, not knowing that said brothel had been torn down twenty years ago by the governor and replaced with said nunnery.

And for a virgin, she was quite talented.

After she followed in his footsteps and became a pirate, she became even more talented.

But he's not in love. Appreciation for a woman's talents is not the same as loving her. All clear on that?

Good.

So when he finally runs into her again, he completely ignores the butterflies flapping about in his stomach. He's been attacked by Blackbeard. He's just a little nervous, that's all. It has absolutely nothing to do with the woman standing before him, with her smooth, caramel skin and her snapping dark eyes, those full breasts peeking out so tantalizingly… and those boots… she could keep those on, definitely. The hat, though, not nearly as nice as his, although it went well with her thick, full hair – wonder if she'd let him pull it or if she'd snap at him for it…

Yes, another bottle of rum would be nice, thank you. Now, where was he…?

Ah, yes, well despite the passing of years, he remembered her. Nobody has a memory like Captain Jack Sparrow, and he's never forgotten a woman. He's forgotten to write or visit but that's an entirely different matter.

And he never forgets their names, either! That's supposed to be important to women!

Where's all the rum gone? Again? All right, order another round. The night's still young. Where the hell has Gibbs got… oh, never mind. He'll turn up.

In any case, mate, he's not saying that he isn't _fond_ of the lady. She was a rather sweet girl, and could be quite a firecracker if stirred up. He likes women with a bit of fire in them. He can't say he isn't pleased with how she turned out. Still that good Catholic girl underneath it all, believing in good and evil and redemption, but she's seen enough of the world to have built up a hell of a shield. She's more confident, as well, independent and commanding. She practically runs the ship for Blackbeard, interacting with the human part of the crew and issuing orders, as knowledgeable as any seadog.

It's a hell of a turn on, you know, a woman with confidence. All those blushing violets get boring once you're out of your teenage years. Find a girl who knows what she's got and what she wants, mate, and you're set. 'Course, she'll attract every man worth his salt so you'll have to get used to a little competition.

He could see the way the men of the crew looked at her. He pretended not to see, of course, because she'd snap at him and declare that she could take care of herself, and he knew none of them were stupid enough to actually try anything but it rankles, eh? A man wants a woman all to himself, savvy?

Not that he wants her all to himself. He doesn't care. She can go and do as she pleases; it's no difference to him.

God this rum is awful. Did they piss in it?

And it's not like she'd ever accept him if he did want her. He hurt her. He's not an idiot, mate, no matter what they tell you. Captain Jack Sparrow is many things, but he is no fool. Most of the time. She would spit in his face and start screaming in Spanish if he tried anything like that with her.

Fact is he's not worthy of her anyway. He used her, then abandoned her, and when they met up again he was nothing but a pain in her (shapely) ass.

Although he did save her life. That ought to win him some points.

Oh, wait – to save her life he had to kill her father. Awful rotter, kept zombies and everything, but she's still upset about it. She was actually willing to give her life to that bastard! Blackbeard lived his life, had plenty of adventures. He deserved it, the selfish arse. She hates him for it, true enough, but he'd rather have her steaming mad and living than dead.

Thing is, mate… he's lost a lot of people in his life. It always seems the people he cares about, well… they just don't stay. Gibbs is the only one who's stayed on, somehow, and he's not about to fall into bed with _that_. So when he gets the chance to save someone, he's going to take it. You can't blame a man for that, can you?

Point is– where's that serving wench? Ah, forget it.

What was he trying to say? He hopes that everyone's been listening because he's dispensing important philosophical information. You all could learn from this.

You don't sign up to be a pirate. No one signs up. It happens because it happens. It's the only course life has laid out for you, be it through Fate or plain bad luck. He's had plenty of both. You get a lot of things as a pirate – plenty of adventure and near-death experiences, travel, see the world, possibly treasure, annoying monkeys, strange creatures that want to kill you – but you don't get love. If you're lucky you get a crew, which is kind of like a family except you can't choose your family, but finding one person… one person to share your life and your bed with… and maybe even your rum…

No, mate. That doesn't happen.

It'd be childish to think otherwise.

But you don't want to hear about that, do you? You want to know if she was good in the hammock. That's what everyone wants to know.

Well, let him tell you, she's the best.

First off, she's no whore. She'll inform you so herself, in no uncertain terms. So you know that if you're with her, every sound that comes out of that thin, succulent throat is real.

And her legs. She's got the best legs in the Pacific, you can bet on that. Long and silky, nicely toned, with this fantastic ass. You can grab handfuls of that, mate. She's ticklish on the bottom of her feet (tiny, dainty things they are) but she'll kick you harder than a North Atlantic wind so he doesn't recommend it.

But here's what he doesn't understand – why _is_ she the best? She's gorgeous, no doubt about that but it's not like there aren't other lovely wenches out there. Pretty women are a dime a dozen in the colonies these days. So tell him this why, when he's inside her, does it feel like his heart is safe? Why is it ten times better…. Or is it twelve times… forget the math – why is it so much better with her? Why can't he stop thinking about the way her skin shines with sweat or how her breasts move, and why in Davy Jones' Locker is he talking to you about it?

Doesn't really matter anyway, does it. She's gone, placed out of his reach by his own hand, for both his safety and hers. She loves him, you see. He can't have that. Can't have her wasting her life on him a second time. Can't disappoint her, fail her, or – God help him – watch her die because of him. He puts his crew in enough danger as it is. Just ask Gibbs.

See, if he's going to be childish and jump ship for a girl, he's also going to be childishly stubborn and make sure she gets the life she deserves. A good life, a proper life, and what he lives is the opposite of that.

Well, he supposes if she were to walk back into his life, he'd… well… he doesn't know. But it's not his concern at the moment. She's across the ocean by now.

What are you staring at? It's not a one-legged pirate with awful ginger hair, is it? If it is, he really suggests you… where are you going?

Hello, Angelica.

Slapping him is quite childish but seeing as he's about to be equally childish and possibly incredibly stupid and take her on ship with him, he doesn't exactly mind.

After all, being childish has worked out pretty well so far.

**This came out in quite a rambling fashion, which is not a lot like my usual writing but seemed to fit Jack's character. I do hope it worked.**

**Give me a review or you'll get the black spot! Aarrgh!**

**(That was a truly awful pirate growl. Please forgive me.)**


End file.
